Playing a round with Tiger
9/12/2009 11:04:00 a.m.
I have crouched with the Tiger.
True. I was a volunteer course attendant at the 2002 New Zealand Open when it was held out at Paraparaumu. That year, the big drawcard was Tiger Woods, one of the best, wealthiest, and most influential players ever to have swung a club. He could do no wrong.
On the final day, I was doing my job, holding the crowd back, on the edge of the green on Hole 2. I was crouching on my haunches as Tiger et al strolled into view. Wow, the man himself, literally, and he was only 20 metres from me. Then, in the twinkling of an eye, he walked straight towards me. Had he recognised me? Was he going to invite me to be his next caddie?
Then he crouched down right beside me and started lining up his putt. We were like two tigers about to pounce. I briefly flirted with the idea of saying something to him, but what? “Tell me what’s going through your mind at the moment, Tiger” or “Do you get Capital Times in America?” But while I was still wrestling with these thoughts, they finished playing the hole, everyone departed, and I was left still crouching there getting cramp in my thighs.
When you’re as famous as Tiger Woods, everyone pretends they know you. The most recent Tiger “mates” include Rachel Uchitel, Jaimee Grubbs, and Kalika Moquin. They’re just whorish little tarts with funny names who probably don’t even play golf.
I think Tiger’s best mate is his Swedish model wife Elin who used a 3-iron to rescue him from his Cadillac (Mind his face next time, Elin). OK, she overdid it, but that girl’s no slouch. She could get a job as a piledriver. She used to ask him “What did you do today?” and he’d say “I played a round.” Maybe he meant “around”.
Wellington may suffer the consequences of all this when The Hobbit gets filmed here next year.
In the opening chapter of The Hobbit novel by John Tolkien, we are told about a tough-as-old-boots ancestor called Bullroarer Took who was so huge he could ride a horse. He was also a bit of a goer because in one particular stoush with the bloody goblins (the Battle of Green Fields) he actually knocked their king’s head right off using a wooden club.
Then (giving us more detail than we need), Tolkien informs us that the said head “sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf invented at the same moment.” Talk about gross. And you can safely bet Elin Woods is a Tolkien fan on the side.
I believe that Wellington women, who are noted for their striking looks and dedicated clubbing, should be banned from purchasing 3-irons this Christmas, and The Hobbit should be removed from the shelves of all good bookshops.
True. I was a volunteer course attendant at the 2002 New Zealand Open when it was held out at Paraparaumu. That year, the big drawcard was Tiger Woods, one of the best, wealthiest, and most influential players ever to have swung a club. He could do no wrong.
On the final day, I was doing my job, holding the crowd back, on the edge of the green on Hole 2. I was crouching on my haunches as Tiger et al strolled into view. Wow, the man himself, literally, and he was only 20 metres from me. Then, in the twinkling of an eye, he walked straight towards me. Had he recognised me? Was he going to invite me to be his next caddie?
Then he crouched down right beside me and started lining up his putt. We were like two tigers about to pounce. I briefly flirted with the idea of saying something to him, but what? “Tell me what’s going through your mind at the moment, Tiger” or “Do you get Capital Times in America?” But while I was still wrestling with these thoughts, they finished playing the hole, everyone departed, and I was left still crouching there getting cramp in my thighs.
When you’re as famous as Tiger Woods, everyone pretends they know you. The most recent Tiger “mates” include Rachel Uchitel, Jaimee Grubbs, and Kalika Moquin. They’re just whorish little tarts with funny names who probably don’t even play golf.
I think Tiger’s best mate is his Swedish model wife Elin who used a 3-iron to rescue him from his Cadillac (Mind his face next time, Elin). OK, she overdid it, but that girl’s no slouch. She could get a job as a piledriver. She used to ask him “What did you do today?” and he’d say “I played a round.” Maybe he meant “around”.
Wellington may suffer the consequences of all this when The Hobbit gets filmed here next year.
In the opening chapter of The Hobbit novel by John Tolkien, we are told about a tough-as-old-boots ancestor called Bullroarer Took who was so huge he could ride a horse. He was also a bit of a goer because in one particular stoush with the bloody goblins (the Battle of Green Fields) he actually knocked their king’s head right off using a wooden club.
Then (giving us more detail than we need), Tolkien informs us that the said head “sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf invented at the same moment.” Talk about gross. And you can safely bet Elin Woods is a Tolkien fan on the side.
I believe that Wellington women, who are noted for their striking looks and dedicated clubbing, should be banned from purchasing 3-irons this Christmas, and The Hobbit should be removed from the shelves of all good bookshops.
